
Book 4^^ 

Copyright N" ' y 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



Moods and Fancies 

By 
PAUL C. BOOMER, M.D. 









Copyrighted by 
Paul C. Boomer, 1914 



©CI,A379358 

AUG 2b 1914 ' 



Fly little Fancies this your sacred trust, 

To brighten memories covered o'er with dust, 

Charm a dull hour, a weariness beguile. 

Warm a friend's heart and start the waiting smile. 



ContcntiS 

PAGE 

Celestial Amusement 9 

The Bells of St. James 12 

The Wind 15 

On the Square 17 

My Sweetheart is Dead 21 

Mount Tynabo 22 

A Valentine 24 

Bugs 26 

The Tenderfoot's Christmas 28 

The Point of the Road 30 

Discontented 32 

One Variety 33 

A Tribute 36 

The Primrose's Lover 34 

A Valentine 37 

The Doctor 38 

Our Star 41 

The Soul of the Violin 42 

Liberty Bell 44 

Equal Suffrage 46 

The Latest 48 

By a Suit Case 50 

Incense 52 

Clouds 54 

The Bowl 56 

Daughter 59 

6 



Chicago 60 

Nell 62 

Cremation 64 

To Miss M W 65 

Pneumatic Tires 66 

'Twas Ever Thus 68 

There is no God but God 72 

? 75 

Athanasia 76 

Gods 78 

Humanity and Destiny 82 

Curtius 85 

After Thought 101 



Celejsttal amujsement 

The Great Ones sat in company at the bounds of the 

starry world 
They smiled as they watched the whirling spheres 

their arms of might had hurled, 
Limitless void beyond them spread and a universe 

swirled before 
And they smiled on a work so far finished, they smiled 

at its musical roar. 

Then Mintung, the mighty, uttered a thought that 

gave the gods great cheer: 
"Let us place on some sphere a creature that can both 

see and hear. 
That can feel and taste and suffer and can know what 

it is 'to try'. 
Let us place within his bosom — for we'll make him 

like you and I 
A desire to learn of all he sees, the How, the When, 

and the Why 
We can watch him try to comprehend the stars we 

have swung on high." 



Then stately Tajung urged a thought to which the 

gods agree 
That each confer a quahty upon this thing *'to be" : 
"Let us grant him strength and valor according to 

his needs, 
Let us give him Love and Fancy as a spur to worthy 

deeds." 
Callaesthitis dowered Beauty and each god gave a seed 
Which flowered in humanity from Faith and Hope to 

Greed. 

They chose a little flaming star and cooled it in their 

breath, 
They clothed the sphere with verdure and blessed with 

Life and Death, 
They nursed it for an eon 'till man had started fair, 
They filled his heart with longings, they filled his mind 

with care. 
They granted many virtues offset by many odds 
And eyes to see all things except the features of the 

gods. 



10 



They breathed into his being a willingness to do, 
They scribed upon his forehead the lines by which 

to hew, 
And last they filled his bosom with strong desire to 

know; 
Then tossed the sphere with man and brute among the 

stars below 
And anchored it unto a sun within the central throng 
And watched the man grope after Truth and find it 

or go wrong ; 
And endless rapture warms the gods and heaven's 

applause swells wide 
When man blasts out another Truth and makes it 

his with pride. 



11 



Ci^e i3eUi8 of ^t. Slamejs 

Far up within the tower, 

Shouting forth with brazen power 

Are the bells with saintly names, 

Are the bells of our Saint James, 

Twenty metal throats sonorous 

Joined in one grand mellow chorus. 

Bells have rung in every nation. 

Bells have rung in every station, 

Man ever will be governed by their tone. 

Not alone those in subjection 

Nor for those who crave protection 

But as well for kindly rulers on their throne. 

Ye will tell as bells have told 
In past centuries dim and old 
Human joy and human sorrow by your chime, 
You will toll out war's distress 
Measured to our mental stress 
Ringing joyous o'er success. Thou'rt sublime. 
Ye have duties, do them well. 
Shout aloud a people's gladness. 
O'er a wedding ring to madness, 
May you have but few to knell. 
Guide and lead man in his blindness 
Give thy voice to human kindness 
Let thy mission be in fine 
All good, human and divine. 

12 



Ave Marie, sound is faintly 

Full of sweet suggestion saintly 

Turning men to prayer, 

But with bolder tone and manner 

Fling the loved Star-Spangled Banner 

To the air. 

My Country, peal the song 

Ring it often loud and long 

Till the chords of every part 

Reach and thrill each listening heart, 

Till all feel the rich devotion 

Of the brazen bells in motion. 

Throbbing out an invocation. 

Blending praise with supplication, 

Pouring forth upon the air 

A great nation's mighty prayer. 

Forever thou shalt warn man in thy knelling. 

Forever shalt thou throb in sweetly telling 

Of heavenly love, 

Forever shall thy music ease affliction, 

Forever shalt thou voice a benediction 

From above. 



13 



Far up within the steeple 
High above the listening people 
Are the bells with saintly names, 
Are the chimes of our Saint James, 
Twenty voices joined in chorus 
Twenty brazen throats sonorous 
Music pour. 

Tongues of saints on high are singing, 
Angels at the loud chimes ringing 
Open to the chant are swinging 
Heaven's door. 



14 



C^e Winn 

The delicate zephyr that plays with the rose, 

Bathing itself in its fragrance and goes 

On kissing each flower and shaking each leaf, 

Creeping along as still as a thief. 

Now lifting the hair from the brow of a lass 

Who stoops for a violet hid in the grass, 

Now buoying the petals it scatters so free 

As they fall from the blossoms that cling to the tree. 

Now and then, here and there, in the meadow or wood, 

'Tis the wandering wind in its gentler mood. 

Oh the wind, the wild rollicking wind 

That blows where it listeth and none know its mind. 

It scatters the leaves and it hustles the bird, 

It drives the poor clouds through the sky in a herd, 

The grass bows before it, the flower hides in fright 

And the trees shake their limbs in the breath of his 

might. 
He wraps his strong arms 'round the maid on her way. 
He blows in her face and he tells her to stay. 
His embraces are rough and his kisses lack art 
But wherever he goes he acts well his part 
On ocean or prairies, on inland or bay 
'Tis the rollicking wind on his mischievous way. 



15 



Oh the wind, the wild maddened gale, 
That scatters the snow storm and hurtles the hail, 
It tears through the canyons and roars in the pass, 
Snaps the huge mountain tree like a dry blade of grass, 
Plows the ocean to furrows and bathes in the spray 
That it hurls toward the sky as it sweeps on its way, 
There is terror before it, destruction behind 
And the voice of a demon is heard in the wind. 
Whenever it roars and the billows roll high, 
Where trees fall before it and whole forests sigh, 
Where faces turn pale as the foam they have scanned 
And the eye on the ocean is strained for the land. 
Wherever it may be may heaven be kind 
'Tis the wild angry mood of the wandering wind. 

Strange it is man is so like the varying wind; 

In his moods he is gentle, protecting and kind. 

He is strong and courageous, triumphant and brave, 

'Tis the soul of an angel and not of a slave, 

But when passions have conquered. Hell doth not 

contain 
One devil more fiendish than man when insane. 



16 



€)n ti^e ^auare 



There aint no wimmin in this tale because that none 

were there, 
It's just a Western shooting scrap conducted on the 

square, 
No hero, but all villains and they were plenty bad, 
No smiles or tears, no hopes or fears and nobody was 

sad. 

It happened in Nevada, Alpha was the lonely spot, 
This was early in the eighties — everything's now gone 

to rot. 
There was sagebrush all 'round Alpha, rocks and sand, 

lye and clay 
And the blizzards roared in winter and the sun cooked 

things in May. 
The houses there at Alpha numbered one and nothing 

more 
It was hotel, ginmill, college, station, church and 

general store. 
An Italian dago ran the place and claimed to own the 

ground ; 
He manufactured all the booze for thirty miles around. 
He burned charcoal for the smelters at Eureka miles 

away 
And the axes of his choppers were busy night and day. 

17 



His little book showed later when the gov'ment did 

appear 
That his pinion pine theft tactics netted fifty thou a 

year. 

There aint no love in this here tale because that none 

was there, 
It's where a bronco buster and a teamster fit for fair, 
And I a nineteen-year-old kid were present on the spot 
And I can tell the story from the sass up to the shot. 

Black Jersey druv the dago's team of twenty-four 

big mule 
He 'lowed that Bronco Peter's dad was a hoss thief 

and a fool 
And Bronco Peter knew 'twas true but Greaser's blood 

is fire 
And he allowed that Jersey was a Gringo and a liar. 
Then Peter swung onto his hoss and his riato swung 
He run his pinto up and back and jumped a wagon 

tongue, 
He kept a pulling at his flask and gitting up his steam 
Until his face were black and bad — he surely did look 

mean. 
Black Jersey sat upon the porch you bet he didn't 

mope 
His knife were ready and his eye glued to that 

Greaser's rope 

18 



Just then the Chinee cookee banged the triangle for 

chuck 
And the dago made a Httle speech and wished the 

scrappers luck; 
But, says he, you cannot eat inside; you'll shoot the 

place to smash. 
Go eat in cookee's kitchen he's a-slinging of your hash, 
And so Black Jersey and Gay Pete walked in there 

side by side 
A-watching o' each other as we knew they loved their 

hide. 
The grub was on the table and the places just across 
And when they settled to that bench things was an 

even toss. 
Two Bitts, the Chinee cookee, fell flat without a yap 
• When he saw that both his boarders had a gun upon 

the lap. 
We held our breath and waited— -then came the sudden 

crack 
That told us only one white man were living in that 

shack. 
We rushed to find Black Jersey a-eating cool as fate 
While Bronco Peter's bleeding head were laying in 

his plate. 
They both had watched each other and both had moved 

the same 
And Jersey were alive because the Greaser were to 

blame. 

19 



Pete got a little nervous and when he raised, we jedge, 
The muzzle of his cannon caught on the table edge 
And Jersey let him have it just plumb between the 

eyes. 
At Alpha there's a square of fence ; well, there's where 

Peter lies. 
This aint no tale of sentiment because that none were 

there 
It's just a rough song of the times and what the West 

called square. 



20 



Oh, how can our brothers still traffic and sing, 

Oh, how can the Sun still make day; 

When a spirit so fair 

Has passed into air 

And her beautiful body to clay? 

Earth has lost her forever 

Death means forever. 

Oh, how can the children still play? 

The ground that she trod is holy and sweet 

And sacred the grasses that kissed her dear feet, 

Ah, blessed is the flower 

That grows by her bower 

And precious her loved rustic seat. 

She has left them forever, 

The tomb means forever 

And death makes life's volume complete. 

My sweetheart is dead. The sunlight streams down 

On the white marble face of her tomb; 

My heart has turned sere 

With a terrible fear 

Oh, I never shall see her again. 

Ah, never, ah, never. 

She has left me forever 

I never shall see her again. 



21 



jHount Crnabo 

(NEVADA) 

Oh thou fair mountain on whose pearly crest 
The first faint ray of dawning finds its rest, 
Pure in thy gUstening surplice of the snow, 
Enchanting when the rosy clouds aglow 
With the first flush of morning crowns thy peak. 
And the white mists within thy hollows seek 
Some place upon thy generous breast to shade 
Their ghost-like forms that soon must shrink and fade. 

In the bright midday when the scorching heat 

Shrivels the flower beside my dusty feet 

And the sweet birds that from the sage brush gray 

Trilled to the earliest light their gladsome lay 

Are stilled and with drooped wings are panting now 

Beneath the densest shade of cedar bough, 

Afar in azure space thy fairy height 

In dreamlike splendor glistens in the light. 

At the red sunset when the evening breeze 
Bears from thy sides the odor of thy trees 
And tinkling train and creaking dusty cart 
Down the steep trail bring fragments of thy heart, 
The panting herds stand in the deepening shade 
Or in thy ice-born torrents slowly wade, 
Lo ! on thy cloud-like peak I see a light 
And Venus, queen of evening, crowns the height. 

22 



Or at the midnight, 'neath a starless heaven, 

Wild with dark clouds that by the blasts are driven, 

I stand and gaze if I may gain perchance 

By the wild lightning's glare an instant's glance 

Of thy loved height, when lo ! the changing sky 

Clears to my vision and my eager eye 

Sees the bright moon shine through the riven storm 

Above thy crest and gild thy shadowy form. 

Against the dark, deep, purple sky of night 

See the fair mountain standing snowy white 

Outlined with silver with thy crest ablaze 

Above a rosy heaven of glowing haze. 

Glory of glories, joy of joy I feel. 

Thrilled with the grandeur mutely I stand and steal 

A glimpse of Nature worshiping and know 

As oft I had surmised from this low sod 

Thou art fair Nature's altar to her God. 



23 



a a^alentine 

In the mountains ages and ages old 

That lie in pride a towering mass, 

In a dark, deep canyon grim and cold 

Where the black, smooth boulders wall the pass, 

A little spring from the barren wall 

Bubbles up and babbles along, 

'Round many a bend, o'er many a fall. 

Now rushing with madness, now humming a song, 

Now whirling a waltz in a stony pool 

With a vagabond leaf all sere and brown 

Ever sparkling and ever cool 

It breaks away and dashes down, 

Leaping on to the valley below 

Where the orange and lemon and fig trees grow ; 

On and on through the fertile vale 

It whispers ever a wonderful tale 

To the palm and the gum and the pepper tree, 

To the traveller who drinks of its waters free 

It whispers ever the tale of its birth 

'Tis a song of gladness and gentle mirth, 

It tells of the snow that lies at rest 

So bright and cold on the mountain's crest 

"I am cold" it says "but colder still 

Is my parent the snow on the lofty hill. 



24 



I am pure," it says, "but look at the snow, 
'Tis the purest thing that Earth doth know." 
So the stream sings on now loud, now low 
Not of itself but of the snow. 

Oh, might I send a message so bright 

That it would tell of its source aright, 

If it causes a thrill it tells of a throb 

If it brings a tear its source was a sob, 

If warm with affection the words it expressed 

Judge, judge of the passionate love in my breast. 

Oh messenger, fly on this bright lovers' morn 
And see that this missive of love is well borne, 
Far, far to the maid who rules over my heart, 
Rules by her beauty, rules by her art. 
Rules by a method that none can divine 
But still she has conquered this spirit of mine. 
Tell her in whisper and tell her aloud. 
Tell her in sunshine and tell her in cloud 
Utter it ever while she is afar 
Tell her I love her wherever we are. 
No, rather, tell her in words what appeal 
The strength and the warmth of affection I feel 
So when in the future no longer apart 
She may judge how much weaker the tongue than the 
heart. 



25 



A dear little bug lived under a stone 

And he was dejected, forlorn and alone 

A sweet lady bug to whom he would sing 

Now smiled on another, he got the cold wing. 

He was a brown bettle, she red, spotted black 

While his rival was gold all over his back. 

So you see the brown lover was left in the cold 

When he came to contend with the beetle of gold. 

The brown bug had sung his most beautiful whir 

And had shown off his speed till his wings were a blur 

He had clasped his antennae in prayer from afar 

But all he could see was the back of his star. 

The beetle of gold was chilly though fair. 

By birth a patrician, his look was a stare ; 

His atmosphere haughty, his manner was bold, 

He acted and felt like a beetle of gold. 

I had a strange pang for the little brown thing ; 

He was active and loving and willing to sing. 

As lady bugs sometimes, so I have been told. 

Will neglect a true love for the glitter of gold 

I decided to aid so far as I could 

The lady to smile on the lover that wooed. 

With paint from my palette the gold I made black 

And the brown one I gilded all over his back ; 

He continued his prayer, he stuck to his song 

And the fair, spotted flirt saw she had been wrong, 

26 



She gave a faint smile, her antennae she fanned, 
The whole scene revolved just as 'twas planned, 
The brave and the true won the fickle and fair 
While the once golden beetle took flight in the air. 
It was human, amusing, instructive and right 
A Providence meddled with finger of might. 

A moral is dangerous, futile and crude 

But this we can say — to the high — don't be rude, 

To ladies — take care the glitter may fade, 

To lovers — get rich but stick to the maid. 



27 



This here's a tale of Christmas, of a Christmas that I 

spent 
Enjoying of a present that my loving mother sent, 
But she's the only female that'll figger in this tale 
And she was just three thousand miles way by railroad 

rail. 

Ma figgered that her present was one 'twould surely 

suit 
For she sent me on for Christmas a lovely robe de nuit, 
Embroidered down the bosom, a pocket on the breast. 
So clean and sweet and wholesome, inviting me to rest. 

Now there was just five others a-sleeping in that shack 
And the way that they prepared for bed was rather 

somewhat slack. 
Sometimes they took their hats off, sometimes it was 

their boots 
But I never seen a single one a-wearing robe de nuits. 

And so I laid for a surprise and waited for the crowd. 
They came, full of Christmas whisky, a-cursing pretty 

loud 
But when they seen my nighty they let a frightful yell 
And pitched me from the cabin like a cinder shot from 

Hell. 

28 



I landed in a snowdrift, the thermometer was froze 
And I would surely perish if I didn't get some clothes 
So I lit for cookee's kitchen as swift as I could jfly, 
Sam Loo, the yellow peril, was frightened fit to die. 

But finally he clothed me in his padded coat of mail 
And I went back to the cabin a chink in all but tail, 
However not until I'd hid that draggled robe de nuit 
Behind the cookee's woodpile, 'neath a giant cedar 
root. 

Next day a Winnamucca buck came begging of some 

chuck. 
It couldn't have been Friday as he'd had a piece of luck. 
He came, striding through the snowdrifts, he was 

certainly a beaut. 
For he wore. Oh Blessed Angels, my lovely Robe 

de Nuit 



29 



Cl^e point of tl^e KoaD 

A child he stood by the farmhouse gate 

Bare toes in the white dust spread 

And gazed afar down the road to the West 

Where the shining pathway led, 

Over the log bridge spanning the brook, 

Where the clattering reapers mowed, 

To where tall trees hemmed in the path 

Far away to the point of the road. 

And he yearned to go where it dwindled and shrunk 

And tapered away to naught 

For they told him that there he would find great 

things 
Of gold a well-filled pot, 
A beautiful maiden was waiting him there. 
The wonders of earth there showed, 
So he longed and dreamed and resolved to go 
Some day to the point of the road. 

As a blushing youth he bade good-by 
To the farm where the meadows spread 
And bravely strode away to the West 
Where the shining pathway led. 
In time he found a loving face 
And a pot that with gold o'erflowed 
But dim and azure and distant still 
His gaze sought the point of the road. 

30 



Perhaps the spirit that guards the tomb 
Is the maid of his childhood's tale, 
Perhaps the buttercup's golden gloss 
Is the treasure to fill his pail, 
Perhaps the low green temple 
Holds wonders that life ne'er showed 
For here all pathways dwindle and fade 
Here, here lies the point of the road. 



31 



j^fjScontenteD 

Oh, tell me why in this life we miss 
The superlative joy, the superlative bliss 
Of getting the finest, of owning the best, 
When we easily win so much of the rest. 

The largest of fishes slip from our line, 
The shattered glass held the oldest wine. 
The loveliest faces but brighten our dreams. 
And the bushes still hold our bird, it seems. 

Our regular diet is lemons and whey 

For the best that there is never comes our way. 

Just answer this question — yes, make it a bet, 

That the sweetest of kisses are those you can't get. 



32 



She gave him a kiss 'twas as airy 

As the down on the Summer's breeze 

'Twas as sweet as the dew in the nectored blooms 

Of the fragrant cherry trees, 

'Twas as Hght and pure as a vagrant flake 

That heralds the doom of Fall, 

'Twas only a kiss from a blushing Miss 

A kiss — yes, that was all. 

It made him very dizzy, 

It went to his head like wine. 

It whelmed him o'er like the ocean hoar 

When he hurls his ranks of brine. 

His iron knees weakened and trembled 

Like blades of wind-swept grass 

When he felt the airy, fragrant FROST 

In the kiss of a blushing lass. 



33 



Down in the old garden, beside the still pool, 
Where is heard the soft song of the fountain's low 

splashing. 
Where the grass groweth green and the shadows are 

cool, 
And the dew on the ivy in sunlight is flashing. 

Where the stone walls are hidden with moss and with 

vine. 
Where the long narrow paths to new pleasures are 

leading. 
Where the great climbing rose doth its neighbor 

entwine 
And the tips of the daisies forever are bleeding. 

There, there where the manor house peeps through 

the green 
Of great oak and lime trees that tower above it ; 
There, there where nature displayeth her sheen, 
A bee saw a primrose, to see was to love it. 

Down on the damp mosses, close to the clear waters. 
On a shore that the ripples were ever caressing, 
Grew the gentlest, most modest of nature's sweet 

daughters— 
A primrose that breezes were ever addressing. 

34 



Poised in the clear air the bee hung at gaze, 
His swift wings keep time to discoveries wild thrill- 
ing, 
He drops closer still to the rose, love ablaze — 
The flower hangs her head and he thinks she is will- 
ing. 

She trembles and nods as he touches her face. 

She bows down and sheds diamond dew that adorns 

her; 
Her petals draw back from his garments of lace, 
And she chides the poor breezes not having fore- 
warned her. 

He pressed the first kiss of a fresh love upon her, 
He touched her drooped petals with gentlest caresses. 
She shrinks with the thought of her virtue, her 

honor — 
But outpouring fragrance her pleasure confesses. 

Exploring her charms with many a sweet kiss. 
And from her pale breast his own breath perfuming, 
Till dizzy with loving and senseless with bliss. 
He falls from her arms in ecstasy swooning. 

So in the old garden, beside the still pool, 

The flowers of the Springtime are trembling and 

blushing. 
The primrose awaits, where the shadows are cool, 
The return of her lover so gentle, so gushing. 

35 



a Crtbute 

Down on my life, light-footed, fair, she came, in sooth 

Radiant as habitant of some pure sphere. 

Kissed my dull brow and waked a sense to hear 

A spirit whispering words of love and truth. 

Till now my very life had been uncouth 

Except She came to make my vision clear, 

My soul knew not the worth of smile or tear 

Ceaseless I felt the throbbing heart of youth 

Give to me comfort, sympathy and joy. 

Right to the center thrilled the rich warm kiss. 

Enough of heaven she brought to mold Earth's clay, 

Gave love enough to make god Cupid cloy. 

Oh, how can mortal yield such such heavenly bliss? 

Richer am I since she has passed this way. 



36 



a i^alentine 

I send you no printed stock fiction 

But speak from a heart that is true, 

My soul seeks to show its devotion 

And burns all its incense to you. 

My love is as deep as the ocean, 

My love is as broad as the sky, 

I have had many girls in my lifetime 

Perhaps I'll have more e'er I die 

But my dearest, my darling, believe me, 

Love to-day means just this. You and I. 



Z7 



Within a quiet chamber beside a couch of dread 

A Doctor sits with patient strength to rescue from the 

dead. 
A striped, white-capped lieutenant glides to his every 

call, 
He notes the pulse, he notes the breath and ponders 

over all. 
With potent crystals from strange herbs he aids the 

faltering heart, 
With hissing gases from dark tanks he whispers of 

his art, 
With applications cooling he soothes the fevered brow 
And guides his course and deals his help midst panic, 

tear and vow, 
Until relieving dews bedeck a swiftly cooling face. 
The prize is his, the battle o'er, 'tis he has won the 

race. 
With sage advice and kindly smile he seeks a brief 

repose, 
Then sallies forth with godlike soul to conquer human 

woes. 



38 



In an alabaster chamber beneath the clustered lamps 
Upon a crystal table a senseless human pants, 
The stupefying ether has vanquished pain and fear 
And the white-gowned waiting surgeon with willing 

aid draws near. 
With glittering blade and artful hand he finds the 

injured part, 
Dissects with skill, ablates with wit and works with 

speed and art. 
Sutures the ruptured entrail, withdraws the festering 

gall, 
Removes the growth, does all with care and then 

repairs the wall. 
Returning conscience gains at length sway in the 

waking brain 
And hope and joy ascend the throne usurped by dread 

and pain. 
With sage advice and kindly smiles that comfort and 

compose 
He sallies forth with godlike soul to conquer human 

woes. 



39 



So here is a song to the Doctor, a sketch of the fighting 

M. D. 
Who gives of his Hfe that others may live, who slaves 

so others are free. 
A word to strengthen a weak one, a little advice to 

the strong, 
No look of reproach at the failures, no morals to those 

who do wrong. 
Just sympathy, comfort and patience, with wisdom 

and justice and art. 
With courage and strength and endurance, with mercy 

and kindness and heart. 
Not least in a peace with its plenty, not last in a war 

with its dole 
And the welfare of the nations is the purpose of his 

soul. 
So hail to the Red Cross Captain — grant honor and 

prestige and gain 
For he wars against the darts of Death and strips 

the barbs from Pain 
And long may he honor his mission and long may he 

struggle for men 
Till History shouts forth, his glory forever and ever. 

Amen. 



40 



When I think of the lovers of ancient days, 
Of the phantoms that kissed and sighed, 
Of words that were spoken by lips now dust, 
Of hearts that throbbed in fearless trust, 
Of the beings that loved and died ; 

When I think how the gods have written fair 
Of the loves of old in the heavens high 
And that stars will sing the ages through 
Of hearts that were strong and fond and true 
I ask — What of you and I? 

But I know that somewhere is a little world 
Unnamed, unfamed and afar 
That will glisten bright on some brilliant night 
When you and I have passed from sight 
And have joined in our waiting star. 



41 



€^e ^oul of tl^e molin 

Three Sirens upon a rocky cape 

Overlooking a turbulent sea 

Once sang together 

In every weather 

For they were happy and free. 

And sailors hearing their song drew near 

Forgetting their duty, forgetting their fear, 

All forgetting together 

The rocks and the weather 

For the singing so sweet and clear. 

The coast was strewn with corpses white 
And with wrecks once the Ocean's pride 
But they sang together 
In every weather 
Sitting there side by side. 

Till Jove from out the cloudy throne 

Sent forth a bolt of flame 

And they died together 

In stormy weather 

But their voices are still the same. 



42 



Soft and low as the voice of the wind 

Whispering in sylvan bowers 

In all kinds of weather 

They sing together 

In shine or Summer shower. 

Like the voice of the sea they heard so long 

Thundering in caverns deep 

They sing together 

In every weather 

And their songs still make men weep. 

Sweet is the song of the Siren souls 
Doing their pennance for sin 
In the delicate shell, 
Their plutonian cell, 
Best known as the violin. 



43 



Uhtttv TBell 

Oh the Bell, Freedom's Bell, 
What a story it doth tell, 
How it rang a nation's birth. 
How it tolled a tyrant's knell 
Ringing 'round the quiet Earth 
Rousing echoes that still dwell. 
How the ancient ringer rang, 
How the throbbing metal sang. 
How ten thousand bayonets flashing, 
How ten thousand sabers clashing 
With a thousand cannon crashing 
Answered back the brazen warning 
In the light of Freedom's morning, 
Of the Bell. 



44 



Oh the Bell, Freedom's Bell, 

Voiceless now it still doth tell 

How in victory oft its tolling 

Woke a nation's frightful yell 

And its music seaward rolling 

Shook the thrones where monarchs dwell. 

How of Independence telling 

While its tones were loudest swelling 

Voiceless it became but Glory 

Draped its form and shouts its story 

And the Bell though seamed and hoary. 

Its prophetic motto showing, 

Louder still the song is growing 

Of the Bell. 



45 



(Equal Suffrage 



We are marching on to conquest a hundred million 

strong, 
The battle is for might of right against the might of 

wrong, 
We will give to Vice a lacing so she'll never more be 

free, 
We'll bottle Old John Barleycorn so he no more can 

spree, 
We'll clean the dirty corners in the house of Politics 
And prove a worthy purpose can defeat a thousand 

tricks. 
We'll fight till every spear shall show a worn and 

polished shaft, 
Till we've freed the slaves of Cunning and ringed the 

snout of Graft. 



46 



And v.'hen the war is over and when the good work's 

done, 
When all our flags are flying o'er the strongholds we 

have won, 
When the rustle of the ballot is no longer in our ears, 
When are hushed the yells of victims, when are 

hushed the victor's cheers. 
Then we soldiers of the nations will sheath the ready 

sword. 
Still as mothers, wives, and sweethearts we will join 

the council board. 
Each will guard the general welfare with a noble 

heart and tried. 
Each will feel the warmth of triumph, each will blush 

with joy and pride 
When man greets her with a handclasp and spells 

words the World will read: 
Women win through Love and Courage what man- 
kind had lost through Greed. 



47 



Cl^e latejst 



There's a darling pink-faced baby come to squeeze 

into our home 
There's a crowd of us already so he'll never be alone, 
We are poor but we are loving, we will scheme and 

we will plan. 
Each will give things to the other, we will do the best 

we can. 

Bobbie's sox will do for baby, Willie's shoes almost 

fit Bob, 
Tommie's pants look well on Willie, Uncle's hat will 

shield his knob. 
Father's meerschaum goes to uncle, father can use 

granddad's snuff 
We will all give to each other so the baby'll have 

enough. 

Minn'll give the kid her ribbons, Kate'll give her 

gloves to Minn, 
Sister Sue's veil goes to Katie though she hates to 

give like sin, 
Mother's stays will soon fit sister, ma can use dear 

grandma's muff 
Oh, we really do not matter so the baby has enough. 



48 



But next time a pink-faced stranger comes straggling 

into town 
Let us hope he'll bring his mittens and his sox and 

one spare gown, 
And if he can't bring his luggage let us hope there'll 

be no more, 
Or that coming in the darkness he will tap another 

door. 



49 



15V a ^uit Cajie 

I once was the hide on a little red bull, 

With a fine pair of horns and hair long as wool, 

That went at six cents at the end of his trail, 

And they yanked off his skin in two jerks of a tail. 

I was sprinkled with salt, thrown into a hole, 

Which magical process brought pride to my soul, 

For at six on the hoof I felt humble and blue 

But a sprinkle of salt made me worth twenty-two. 

I went to the tanner's who took off my hair, 

I felt most immodest to find myself bare. 

Though I blushed for myself, my hair had worse 

shocks. 
For 'twas made up into a pair of felt socks 
That keep warm and cosy each beautiful leg 
Of a dear little teacher in far Winnepeg. 
I trust and I pray that some day I may clasp 
A woman's white togs beneath my strong hasp — 
You'll pardon the wish, my heart is so full. 
And remember my sex — I once was a bull. 



SO 



The tanner he turned me with many a curse — 

He vowed he'd seen few that were very much worse ; 

He soaked and he scraped me without and within 

Till he'd soaked out the ghost of original sin. 

After ages of soaking, of strangling, of grief, 

I came to the light. Yes, it was a relief; 

But then I was rollered and beaten and cut, 

I was shrunken to half, but tough as a nut. 

At last I changed hands and belonged to a Jew, 

Who got me rock bottom, at price forty-two. 

He ordered me made into what I am now, 

For which I am thankful, my pride you'll allow — 

When you learn I am worth as much, yes, alas. 

As the little red bull when he munched the long grass. 

I have entered my life, have made my debut; 
You be careful of me, I'll be faithful to you. 
We'll travel together both empty and full. 
But we'll never behave like the little red bull. 



51 



3incen!8e 

Some gentlemen keep on their private shelf 
Beside razor and bottle of booze 
A poem that somebody wrote on love, 
Some withered flowers, a wrinkled glove 
And a pair of gilded shoes. 

No keepsakes have I of former days, 

No ribbons or gloves or lace 

But often when there's an idle hour 

I can conjure well, for I have the power, 

A smile, a form or a face. 

For my soul like a wizard keeps in his den 
Some vials of rare old glass 
That hold the vintage of former years. 
The glances of eyes, the glint of tears 
And the fragrance of loves that pass. 

These vials have stopples graven well 
To the features of some fair face 
With tresses of auburn, black or tow 
So at a glance one well can know 
Which is Violet, Lily or Grace. 



52 



I close my eyes, the doors of my soul, 
And breathe of a vial and then 
I whisper and smile and court and bow 
Living over a love that I once did vow 
Because I'm in love again. 

There's one small vial crowned with Franc 

That makes me giddy and coy 

My face grows pink, my feet are bare 

And I wriggle and twist in my great arm chair 

Because it has made me a boy. 

So there in rows in the den of my soul 
In vials that glisten and gleam 
Is the attar of Nelly, of Mabel, of Kate, 
The essence of Love, the assays of Fate 
And the incense for many a dream. 



53 



ClDUDjS 

At the black midnight when the clouds are riven 

By the mad wind and through the sky are driven 

While the artillery of heaven roars loud 

And lightning spears flash forth from cloud to cloud, 

Demons seem loosed, Plutonian powers hold court, 

Geni and Titan join in awful sport, 

Strife, war, destruction, anger, pain and death 

Whirl o'er the planet, life is but a breath. 

Hades seems real and Heaven but a tale. 

Evil triumphant reigns while angels pale. 

In the fair dawning when the early light 

Pales the low East, the cloud maids greet the sight. 

Faintly at first their pearly heads they raise 

To breathe the matin of their daily praise. 

Seeing their king they glow with joy and pride 

And each one dons the drapery of a bride. 

As that majestic sultan, Sol the proud. 

Struts through his palace, every maid, a cloud. 

Bows low and blushes, smiles and makes a way 

To glorify the coming of the day. 



54 



Or at the evening clustered in the West 

The cloud throng gently give the Earth to rest, 

Mellowed or gorgeous in the sinking Sun 

They hold the record of a day now done. 

Some pale with fear, some ruddy with fond joy, 

Some bright with hope, some dull with strange annoy 

Gathered about the bright and awful throne 

They wait for benefice or to atone 

And with the clouds we join the mighty laud 

And almost feel the presence of our God. 



55 



Old as the mists of creation, 

New as the first blush of day 

With tinkle and clink, with glitter and glint 

This is the Salad Bowl's lay. 

Lashed in the flames of formative Earth, 
Cooled by the down-raining seas. 
Powdered and cut in the glacier's rut, 
Riding the wind to be free. 

Crushed by the dinosaurs slimy, 
Fanned by the flukes of the whale, 
Tossed by the huge hairy mammoth. 
Swept by the crocodile's tail. 

Shrouding the bones of the mighty, 
Drinking the blood of the slain. 
Dashing like darts in the whirlwind. 
Quietly laid by the rain. 

Thus throughout numberless ages, 
Ages of peace and of strife, 
Deluged old ocean unhindered. 
Struggled the land into life. 



56 



Then came the fire of man's fury 
The flame of his merciless skill 
It was like to primitive ages 
When God was working his will. 

When the cold mists whirled to flaming 
And the flames congealed to stone 
But I knew this littler, selfish God 
Would shape me for his own. 

'Twas thus by his short, sharp fury 
A miracle came to pass 
And the sands of countless ages 
Came forth as a bowl of glass. 

He cut and polished and shaped me 
As I shrieked as if in pain 
But he paid no heed for 'twas his creed 
To write the pattern plain. 

And when he had wrought and polished 
To the joy of his skillful heart 
He smiled in pride on my glittering side 
Ai!d pronounced me a work of art. 



57 



Once I was nebulous nothing, 
Now I am pertified dew, 
Once I was molten rock seething 
Now I hold cool things for you. 

Yes I am crystallized rainbow. 

Finished the work long begun 

And I feel new delight as I play with the light 

Of my larger twin brother the Sun. 



58 



Whose girl are you? I ask of a maid 

Who sits upon my knee. 

Whose girl are you? I ask again 

Of my little one of three, 

She leans away for she loves to tease, 

And soberly answers — "Oh, somebody's." 

And who is this fortunate somebody 

Who owns such a dear little dove? 

Who gets your kisses? who hears your tales? 

Who is it has your love? 

Then back she comes with laughing eyes 

And shouts "Papa" as a great surprise. 

Then I hug my fair little sweetheart 

With a great, strong, bearlike squeeze 

And perhaps 'tis a trifle too rough for the mite 

For she smotheringly begs release 

But I can't help being rough at the time 

For I know that the day will be 

When her answer to "Whose girl are you?" 

Will not 'specially indicate me. 



59 



Queen of the western prairies, gem of the inland sea 
Our hearts and voices join in loyal praise to thee, 
Exiled upon a foreign shore or nestled at thy breast 
We're proud of our great mother and sing with love 
and zest : 

Chorus. 

Chicago ! Oh Chicago ! Shrine of a nation's heart. 
We love thee and we feel that in thee we have a part ; 
Far, far among the peoples the quickened pulses thrill 
When is seen the shining legend, the glorious words, 
*'I Will." 

Where once the glowing embers lighted thy second 

birth 
There lofty walls of marble hold the trophies of the 

Earth, 
There granite halls of learning are like jewels in thy 

crown 
And the billowy clouds of commerce enfold thee like 

a gown. 



60 



Thou sittest like noble Ceres *midst harvest's garnered 

worth, 
The iron steeds of traffic bear thy bounties o'er the 

Earth, 
In every distant valley, deep in the treasured hills 
Our brothers toil to fill the call of all thy roaring mills. 

Thine is the voice of millions, the never-ceasing wheel. 
Thine is the midnight flamings of molten lakes of steel, 
Thine is the beacon warning the endless transports 

home 
And thine the meed of glory wherever man may roam. 

The azure water of the lake that pours about thy feet, 

The pure and constant breezes that aid the homing 
fleet, 

The temples with their thousand spires, the sylvan 
nooks for rest 

All build thy fame and make thy name now and for- 
ever blest. 



61 



When I was but a laddie among the hills of green 
'Twas there I met a lassie who became my young 

heart's queen. 
How her blue eyes could sparkle, her cheek was like 

a shell 
And I loved her and the darling I christened Pretty 

Nell. 
But when I told her of my love she ceased her childish 

play 
Her eyelids drooped, she hung her head and frowned 

and ran away. 

A man, I journeyed to her home, my love had made 

me bold. 
The flaxen hair had darkened, her head was crowned 
Her blue eyes sparkled just the same, her lips were 

just as sweet 
But Nellie was a woman from her glory to her feet 
And there among the hills of green I told my love that 

day 
But Nellie blushed, her eyelids fell, she smiled and 

turned away. 



62 



Now I am old and wrinkled, few left to call me Bill, 
I dwell within a palace and servants do my will 
And had I searched a million worlds through all the 

years of life 
I could not find another like Nell to be my wife. 
Whene'er I whisper of my love or talk about that day, 
Dear Nellie wipes her glasses and smiles and turns 

away. 



63 



Cremation 

All men are equal at the end 
For when they come to die 
The pauper old 
And the king with his gold 
Are food for the buzzing fly 

The maggot, the shark, the burrowing rat, 

The buzzard and stealthy mold 

Begin the work 

Which they never shirk 

When the heart of man turns cold. 

No dark, damp, airless grave be mine, 
No scavengers or mire. 
But give my weight 
To the flaming grate 
So it vanisheth in fire. 

The clean, lean, greedy, willing flames 
Yea bid them be my shroud 
And do not slave 
To deck my grave, 
Throw kisses at a cloud. 



64 



Co ^apijsjs PL 1^ 



A maiden once had in her darkest interior 

An organ marked A. that was warped and inferior. 

It would gas, it would sass 

And the experts declared that it never had class. 

So they went at the maiden with vim and with ardor 

And cut a small window right into her larder 

And there among chocolates and sundaes and gum 

They found a string bean that was all on the bum. 

They pickled it neatly in spirits of wine 

And I wish that the maiden that had it were mine. 



65 



pneumatic Cft^ejs 

From the fluff of island cotton, the southland's 

precious snow, 
From the sap of tropic jungles where the Orinocos 

flow, 
From where smoking, rumbling craters threaten man 

and shake the Earth 
There our elements of being grow and flow and have 

their birth. 

The skill of human fingers, the craft of human skill. 
Mix and blend the sap and brimstone with the snowy 

cotton drill, 
Shape and mold and form and fashion with a miracle 

of art 
Till the parts are made a unit and the unit has no 

parts. 



66 



In quadruplets forth we trundle for conquest and for 

mirth 
Filled with the breath of heaven we will spin around 

the Earth, 
With the strength of sixty horses we spurn the level 

road, 
We need no gentle urging, we need no cruel goad. 

Like hounds upon the quarries' trail our music is the 

horn. 
Like lions in the desert our fear the wayside thorn. 
Like eagles on spread pinions as silent, swift and free 
And the reason for our being is the joy we bring to 

thee. 



67 



As he strolled along the sands of Time 
By Life's shining river aflow 
He found a Naiad of wondrous grace 
With tear stains marring her beautiful face 
And a spirit weary with woe. 

Her words were but sobs, her posture despair, 

Her breathings a sibilant sigh. 

Her hair was disheveled, her garments awry. 

Like a bird with wrecked pinions that never can fly 

She lay as one dying and wished but to die. 

He tried to comfort, to bring relief 

To the stricken stranger with heart so sore, 

To learn her sorrow, to end her fears. 

To ease her pain and stop her tears 

As she lay on the glistening shore. 

At length in a voice that was all a moan 
She told the tale of her grief; 
How her Triton lover of late grown cold 
Was paying court to a mermaid bold 
Who dwelt in the coral reef. 



68 



Her sniffs became scattered and fewer her sobs, 

As she Hstened she lessened her sighs, 

She straightened her garments and twisted her hair 

And deftly in every respect made repair 

While sidelong she glanced with her eyes. 

They talked and dallied the hours away 

As they strolled through a shadowy grove 

And he whispered words that a young man will say 

When alone with a riiaid on a propitious day. 

Yes, they simply were falling in love. 

They parted at eve and greeted with joy 
At the grove in the sparkling morn, 
He gave her a pearl he had won at dawn 
In a wagered race with a forest faun, 
Her beautiful breast to adorn. 

She praised his great triumph, with blushes and smiles 
She gave him a generous kiss. 
Their days were an ecstatic madness it seems, 
Their slumber just thrilled with superlative dreams 
And their life was a picture of bliss. 



'Till one day came the Triton of wondrous mien 

Like a breeze through the bowery vault 

In search for the Naiad neglected of late 

His love for the mermaid had suffered its fate, 

Their temperaments were at fault. 

His hair a green tangle of sedges and grass, 

His garments a clutter of reeds, 

While his skin was as white as the star-shine at night 

Naught escaped the swift search of his eyes burning 

bright 
And his limbs were for valorous deeds. 

He stopped his career at sound of a song 

And barkened to voices that rang. 

For the lovers sat there thigh to thigh, ear to ear, 

A-singing their song, never dreaming of fear 

And these are the words that they sang : 



70 



Oh, it's Love makes the World go 'round, dear, 
It's Love makes the World go 'round ; 
Some think it is money that turns the gears, 
Some think it spins faster if driven by fears 
But Love is the petrol that whirls every spoke. 
That kicks up the dust and puffs out the smoke 
And it's Love, Love, Love that makes pain a joke. 
For it's Love makes the World go 'round. 

Oh, it's Love makes the World go 'round, dear, 
It's Love makes the World go 'round; 
Some think it's religion and some say it's work 
But Love prays and toils and never will shirk, 
It builds all our temples, it crowds all our marts. 
It rears all the babies, then troubles their hearts. 
And it urges us up in most difficult arts 

For it's Love makes the World go 'round. 

Triton's fair, puzzled forehead was clouded with hate 

As he pounced on our hero with glee 

And he yelled (Who is this that sits with you. Sis?) 

(Was he trying to flirt? Did he offer to kiss?) 

And she said with the look of an innocent miss ; 

(He's an absolute stranger to me). 



71 



Cl^ere (0 0o (Boh but (0oli 

A painted medicine man stood up in the midst of a 

buckskinned throng, 
He grunted his grunt, he danced his dance, he chanted 

his mystic song, 
The feathered warriors nodded approval for his wail 
When he uttered favoring omens of success for their 

bloody trail. 
They gave him food and raiment, they gave him of 

praise full meed 
And he reaped a mighty harvest as the fruit of his 

little seed. 

The Albert coated clergyman stood by his carven chair 
He preached, he prayed, he chanted and tossed his 

prophetic hair, 
The broadclothed and sealskinned sinners listened in 

smiles or tears 
Whenever he gave them food for hope or rasped their 

tender fears. 
They gave him house and comfort, of gold a goodly 

store 
And in due time a week or so he preached and garnered 

more. 



72 



The sons of men are brother fools, yea by the strength 
of kin, 

They pay the leech to suck their blood and take his 
word for sin 

And this is right and this is crime and this is life or 
death 

And he claims eternal happiness as the prize for well- 
spent breath. 

Yea some for coin forgive a sin and some for coin 
will pray 

And lift a soul from the pain of Hell to the light of 
celestial day. 

The sons of men are brother fools and their good 

blood soaks the sod 
Because their surpliced medicine men claim Allah is 

not God, 
Because the God of the buckskinned throng, the God 

of the boundless plain 
Is not the God that saved the world at the price of one 

man's pain. 
Because Jehovah is not Zeus and Christ is never Allah 
Ten thousand million thirst in Hell or drink in old 

Valhalla. 



n 



For what know they of the mitre better than that 

we know? 
If faith of numbers telleth true to which faith shall 

we go? 
There can be but one maker of the struggling sons 

of Earth, 
There are different shades but not of blood and the 

same is their form and birth. 
All men are equal before The God, greatest as well 

as least 
Has the love of the One Great God as well as the 

best-taught priest. 
So men of the wrinkled Earth stand up, bury the 

thirsting knife, 
Know this, that you are brothers as one God gave 

you life. 
Take you the Cross and the Crescent, the Unleavened 

Bread and the Bowl 
With all the rest and bury them well in the deep sea's 

blackest hole, 
Break ye the bonds that fetter souls to the long robes 

of a priest 
And join in triumphant unison, the West with the 

ancient East, 
From plain and wood and valley shout till the moun- 
tains nod 
There is no God but one God and that God is our God. 



74 



? 

Why stand ye on the mountain top, tip-toe, to reach 

thy God? 
Why lift thy voice that he may heed thy prayer? 
Why look ye toward the stars to seek his face? 
Know ye that God is there? 

Within thy darkened chamber, upon thy bended knee, 
Why whisper prayers with pale averted face? 
Doth thy God dwell within thy petty domicile 
To sanctify thy hiding place? 
This God thou prayest to that heeds thy prayer 
Is He an entity that thou canst own? 
Or some vast spirit, incomparable, remote and infinite, 
Not to be seen or known? 
Is there one God without, within, above, below, 

around? 
Not all the temples on a thousand hills 
Could make a habitation for the Infinite 
Or priesthood alter what he wills. 
Is God the spirit of the universe that actuates the 

planets in their course? 
The animating essence of all life the fountain head 

and origin of force? 
The cause and substance of all things that are, the 

Present, Past and Future his long life. 
Is everything, that is, a part of God, evolving destiny 

the God like strife? 
Is such thy God? 

75 



Eternal am I. From the very Prime 
A part of Cosmos and a strand in Time. 

I have glowed in the mist of a comet, 

I have flamed in the light of a star, 

I have spun round the Sun on a limitless run 

And have traced endless space from afar. 

I have floated in clouds o'er the mountain, 

I have flourished as grass on the hill, 

I have fed the lean pack that followed my track 

And have lapped the warm blood of my kill. 

I have posed as a rock, as a flower, as a brute 
And now I can pose as a man, 

I have played every part without choice, without art. 
In a wonderful geodic plan ; 

A part of me is the Ocean, a part of me is the Air, 
A part is Earth, a part is Fire and all of me is Prayer ; 
A prayer of joy and gratitude that in the present day 
The elements that form me bound Love and Hope 
with clay. 



n 



And when this act is finished and when this course 

is run 
I'll still be there as dust and air upon a clinkered Sun; 
Waiting the call to action 
Though cold as a fossil snail, 
All of me eyes, all of me ears, 
With a voice to answer the hail. 
I will burst to gas and rage as fire 
At the crash with a clinkered mate 
And in the sky will flare anew 
The sign of a deathless fate ; 
On, on through unnumbered ages to write the tale 

again 
Of a whirling cloud, of a shining star, of a world of 

brutes and men. 

A part of me is the Ocean, a part of me is the Air, 
A part is Earth, a part is Fire and all of me is Prayer, 
That through the coming ages the elements in me 
May have the power in each great hour 
To Love and Hope and See. 



n 



(0Ot)jS 

When but a child I had a god that mostly ruled at 

night 
He held my soul by terror and his worship was of 

fright, 
I never saw his features or heard his awful voice, 
I never would have served him if there had been a 

choice. 
He often hid beneath my bed or stood behind my 

chair 
And I know his hands were frequently just clutching 

at my hair. 
He crept beneath the sidewalk and could come 

through a crack 
And I would be so frightened I would run and not 

look back. 
He never did me any harm but then you know he 

might 
And I enjoyed no safety but when mother held me 

tight. 

The theology of childhood made me a trembling slave 
For the bogie god would get me if I didn't just behave. 

Then came a troop of brighter gods, companions of 

my youth. 
They were human-like and natural and full of life 

and truth, 

78 



They were beautiful and perfect and almost house- 
top tall 
And just about as pallid as the marbles in the hall. 
They talked and loved and wrangled and did just as 

I did, 
Their presence gave me pleasure, I was downcast 

when they hid. 
They understood my longings and Jove the sky would 

smash 
If I had to miss the circus because I lacked the cash. 
They never answered any prayers but their sympathy 

was mine 
And I think I kept them busy pretty nearly all the 

time; 
Minerva'd frown and Juno'd pout and Venus just 

would prance 
When I could not go with Nellie to the social and 

the dance. 

But Oh, the gods of youth have fled, they hold adults 

in scorn 
They have vanished like the hoar-frost in the sun of 

early morn. 

And now another god has come. No man his face 

may see. 
Like sunshine on the prairie, like mist upon the sea, 

79 



He fills the utmost heavens and his name inspires 

with awe 
For the title that men give him is inscribed as Cos- 
mic Law. 
I feel his ample power and am humble as the clay 
Amazed at the achievements of his mighty yesterday. 
I watch the stars rush flaming throughout the realms 

of space, 
I note the tiny hairbell flowering in the shady place, 
I feel the sea a-breathing and sum the desert's sand 
And am faint, exhausted, weary just to think that all 

was planned. 
I count for naught in import, I count for naught in 

might, 
I am only one of billions that have struggled toward 

the light, 
The Law provides my pleasure and if I suffer pain 
It is because I cross the Law and I must try again. 

Such is the god of my to-day and I but stand aghast 
When I think the Future will disclose more wonders 
than the Past. 

I hear there is another God will cheer my latter day. 
He'll take me by my feeble hand and lead me on the 
way; 



80 



Or coming to me as I faint, above me gently bend 
And turn the glass when wasting sands are nearly 

at the end. 
But then comes a low whisper that all the gods are 

One 
And the protean illusions show how well His will is 

done: 
The timid childhood's bogie god just answered like 

a charm 
To keep me safe and well in place and guarded from 

all harm, 
The marble gods taught Beauty and Strength and 

Love and Life 
And inspired me for the action of the future days of 

strife, 
The mighty Spirit of all space, the God of Law and 

Light, 
Evolved in me a wish to learn of everything aright. 
When my old heart shall thrill with hope and know 

no thought of fear, 
And when an angel tells me that happiness is near, 
When the mirage of turrets prove that I no longer 

roam, 
The rustle of a Gabriel's wings will hail the wanderer 

home. 



81 



Whence are we? Why and whither? is raised the 

human cry. 
Why do we live? Why struggle? Why suffer and 

why die? 
What is the goal we're seeking? What is the lofty 

aim? 
Why in our breasts is quenchless hope that everlasting 

flame? 

Man sits in meditation profound, prolonged and vain, 
Man seeks to gain in merit through self-inflicted pain, 
Man bows before his idols and man lifts high his gods 
And spreads his sacred carpets upon more sacred sods. 
There lies a fallen Moloch kissing a holy clod. 
There is a ruined temple deserted of its god. 
There is a broken idol, there an abandoned shrine, 
And there a leaning Crucifix, the latest Hope of Time. 
Below among the peoples a myriad hands they raise. 
Some held in supplication and some in proffered praise 
And some thrust forth in frenzy and some are clasped 

in prayer 
And some are old and grimy and some are young and 

fair. 
Some clenched in wild defiance, some asking to be led. 
Some holding gold and jewels while some are begging 

bread. 

82 



A gloved one sways a scepter, a pale one holds a cross 
And some wield bloody weapons and some are filled 

with dross, 
And some are puffed from gluttony and some are 

shrunk from wine. 
And some are strong and some are weak and some 

display no sign, 
And some are joined in friendship and some are 

clasped in love 
While a baby's hands in its mother's arms are lifted 

high above. 

Above the throng of nations beyond all human ken 
Where reigns the day eternal, beyond the thoughts 

of men, 
There moves through light supernal on to the distant 

goal 
The face of That Which Sees The End, That Com- 
prehends The Whole. 
Distant, unchanged, unswerving through ages past 

and gone, 
Remote, unaltered, purposeful through ages yet unborn 
The eyes of Destiny gaze calm upon the distant scope 
And neither falter, fear and fail nor hasten, smile and 

hope. 
Such is and ever has been and always will remain 
With nothing that can lessen and naught that counts 



83 



With purpose full and final, determined and complete 
The face of That Which Sees The End and knows 
naught of defeat. 

Seek not to solve the riddle, seek not to pierce that 

ken, 
Do but the best within thy scope and live and die 

like men. 
Not one is of great moment before that calm, set face 
And finite man cannot define the welfare of the race. 
Still this much has been granted, the ages write it 

plain ; 
That which was lost was worthless and what survives 

is gain. 
The best shall never perish. The peerless wins a mate 
And joy and smiles must triumph above the rule of 

Hate, 
That Worthy Sons of Worthies shall have worthier 

children still 
Until perfected Man shall stand on Time's remotest 

hill. 



84 



Cuttiusi 

A LAY OF ANCIENT ROME 

Listen, friends, unto a story of brave days of old 
When a human heart and a human hand were valued 
more than gold. 

Why rush so fast the surging crowd 

Adown the hillside shouting loud? 

Is Rome on fire? What can it be? 

Mayhap the news of victory 

By breathless courier on spent steed 

Draws forth the crowd from beds of need, 

Where languishing in torturing strife 

With fever burning out their life 

The noble and the low now lie. 

Perhaps a foe is on the way 

Hoping that Rome in her dismay 

At prodigy and curse and plague 

May fall before their traitor league. 

Perchance in panic, wild with fright 

Their friends forgotten in the sight 

Of the unburied dead so nigh 

To those who only hope to die, 

They flee the city, flee the might 

Of gods that only reign to smite. 



85 



On toward the forum push the throng 

Of mingled life, the weak and strong, 

The rough, plebeian, brown with moil 

As where the Sun on fruitless soil 

Burns down and barren of the grass 

Is cursed and curses all who pass. 

The rich patrician dull with wine 

Like some huge oak of Apennine, 

That grows and towering towards the skies 

Scatters its acorns where they die 

Till smitten by the tempest's shock 

It moulders useless on the rock. 

The huge barbarian in whose grasp 

Last eve was heard the dying gasp 

Of that great cat whose spotted hide 

In Afric's jungles oft is spied. 

Pushes amid the struggling crowd 

In civic garb with curses loud, 

Onward they stream, a living sea 

Of human life, the slave and free, 

The great, whose brow in thought is bowed 

And burdened with state cares, the proud 

In jeweled garb a trophy brought 

From Veii where some client fought 

And mothers clasping close their child 

Skirt the dense throng with faces wild. 



86 



Before the Vestal temple hear 
The startling din of clanging spear, 
Of clashing arms, of piercing cry 
And see the smoke that rolls on high. 
Twelve priests in arms, with shields of brass, 
Whirl in wild dance and as they pass 
With chanting song, each beats his shield 
Till fainting all at length have reeled 
To the rough stones and in their cars 
Are borne away the priests of Mars. 

In spotless robes a numerous band 
Of youths, each bearing in his hand 
A silver censor, gently swinging 
And as they follow they are singing 
To Mars, the terrible in war. 

But lo, the priests, the rattling car, 

The smoke of incense gently burning 

Are passed as dreams and the great yearning 

Of a cursed people looks on high 

Where a great cloud hangs in the sky 

And timid faces grow more pale 

And bursting hearts scarce hold the wail. 

A word of sympathy would free. 



87 



A silence reigns, all strain to see 
The noble form, the troubled face 
Of Sextus there on the judgment place. 
The Consul, Sextus, hear the voice 
The people's consul, the people's choice. 

The pain, the despair, the hope, the dismay 

Winged with that name arose on that day 

A prayer to omnipotent Jove not to man. 

A people looked up through a heaven-wrought plan 

Of famine, of flood, of fever and worse 

Of anger divine and the threatening curse 

Of their city's destruction by earthquake and fire 

To a mortal who trembled himself to aspire 

To supplicate Jove, to search out and appease 

With suitable offering the wrath that he sees. 



Then Sextus rose from the curule stool, 

The people hushed as he raised his hand, 

His face was pallid, his hair was wild 

And anxious the eye that had ever been mild 

As he gazed with tears on the eager band. 

"Comrades, Romans, the word has come 

From far-away Cumae the message is here, 

The gods that dwell o'er heaven's high dome 

Have sent the word how to save our home, 

So hark to the words of the Sibyl drear." 

Then up stood Celer, the swiftest of men, 

Great were the deeds this man had done, 

He had passed his foes, crossed mountain and fen 

Till he reached the dame in her fateful den 

And he told how the sacred word was won. 

"The night was dark save the lurid glare 
That hung o'er the fearful mountain's crest, 
The path was steep, the way was bare 
And wild the rocks as hide the lair 
Of the monster cat or the eagle's nest. 

"Up and on we rushed apace, 

I followed the flying feet of the hag 

Through canyons as dark as the realms of space. 

My only light was the witch's face 

And the dull red glow of the topmost crag. 

89 



"O'er beds of lava she led the way. 
Where a mighty chasm barred the pass 
She took the leap without dismay 
And shrieked a curse at my delay 
When I faltered with fear like a timid lass. 

"Up and on to a cave's dark mouth 

Where in secret chambers she holds her spell, 

Where the essence of life renews her youth 

And the odors exhaled make her speak the truth 

As they rise in clouds from a bottomless well. 

"To an inner chamber she strode away, 

The winding passage hid her form. 

There she breathed the spirit of prophecy 

And her shrieks the will of Jove convey, 

This she screamed while the frenzy within was warm 

" 'The dearest treasure that Rome doth know, 
Consider it long, consider it well, 
Down deep in the chasm of death must go 
While the crashing walls shall bury it low 
And the thunder boom its knell.' " 



90 



In silence the multitude listened until 

His words had been finished and speechlessly still 

They stood as though dumb and silence was pain, 

Like the lull in a storm that sweeps over the main, 

Or the space twixt the lightning's bright blinding flash 

And the fearful relief that comes with the crash 

Of the thunder, they stood till a voice 

That seemed scarcely human, gave breath to a choice, 

"Gold !" it shrieked, as a miser might cry in a dream 
And a shudder of terror swept wide at the scream 
But the spell had been broken, Hope rose amain, 
*'Gold, gold," the crowd shouted again and again. 

Sextus arose from his curule stool, 
The people hushed and the wind blew cool. 
The wavering cloud of sulphury smoke 
That rose in a column and spreading broke 
In a canopy dense o'er the neighboring slope 
Seemed blacker grown. The chasm of death 
Poured forth midst rumblings its pestilent breath 
In ampler volume. Quiet once more 
At the voice of the Consul succeeded the roar 
That had burst like the surge of the sea in the shock 
Where frantic it breaks on the black looming rock, 
As the silence that follows the deafening roar 
While the white spray falls flecking the green sinking 
floor 

91 



Of the outrushing wave, such, such was the space 
E'er he spoke. Each pallid face 
Was strained with attention, a volume of prayer 
Was sent up from the desperate multitude there 
For friends, home, and nation, each upturned cheek 
Uttered more in its muteness than pontiffs could speak. 
''Friends, Gold has been chosen. The treasure of old 
That was saved from the Goths is all precious gold 
And lies in the vaults, bring it forth, bring it forth, 
And tear yonder milestone of fabulous worth 
From betwixt the firm stones and jewels as bright 
As the stars of the heavens that glisten at night. 
Bring them forth, bring them forth and the spirits 

that sit 
Provoked at our folly perchance may see fit 
To smile on our offering and glancing benign 
On our rich sacrifice refulgent may shine, 
The plague cause to cease, the Tiber subside 
And close the vast pit that is here yawning wide." 



92 



In his hand he upheld to their vision a gem 

That was fit to have shone in a god's diadem. 

Far, far in the East where the blue waters dance 

Rocked by odorous breezes, a diver by chance 

Found it deep in the sea and to Troy's ancient king 

Sent it up as a gift and he in a ring, 

To that hero, his son, godlike Hector of old. 

Gave the jewel set deep in the ruddy bright gold 

From Araby's mountains, and down through the years, 

A witness of pleasures, a witness of tears, 

A forfeit to monarchs, a gift to the brave, 

A reward to his valor, he willingly gave 

It up in his wild, anxious, patriot love 

As a sacrifice worthy of thundering Jove. 

To the chasm, that yawning a bottomless seam, 

Poured forth its black column of sulphur and steam. 

He strode and upon the dark brink of the trench. 

Mid the shadows of smoke and the pestilent stench. 

He stood for a moment, his white, upturned face 

Encircled by clouds in that terrible place 

Shone like the face of the dead on the wave 

E'er it sinks to a watery, fathomless grave ; 

His hand was outstretched o'er the chasm of night 

And the gem of the ages flashed last in the light. 



93 



A shudder as when through the sparkling sky 
Sweeps a fierce burning meteor blinding the eye, 
Man stands and awaits with short, bated breath, 
The shock of its falling or worse still his death 
And arouses himself from the swoon of his fright 
To look tremblingly out on the bright, starry night. 
So the multitude stood with pale, dewy brows, 
Here whispering prayers, there murmuring vows 
But no tremors of Earth, no rumblings deep 
Add fear where they tremble or tears where they weep, 
For the gift was not that in which Romans rejoice. 
Grim, unsatisfied gods had rejected the choice 
And with souls terror-stricken, hearts ready to burst, 
They looked on the strange, smoking pit as at first. 



94 



On that dread stillness rose the clattering beat 
Of horses' hoofs that flying free and fleet, 
With clang of arms and with wild ringing neigh 
Burst through the crowd and down the narrow way. 

As that mad stream 
That takes its source within a glacier's seam 
Mid Alpine heights, twixt the high-polished wells 
Of adamant leaps downward to the falls 
An emerald flood, embossed with foam, the way 
Broken with rocks bedewed with icy spray. 
So came the steed and rider, men gave back 
As where amid the carnage fierce and black 
Some armored knight sheds awe 
And from such might the startled soldiers draw 
In terror off. On, on before the judgment place 
He swept where Sextus with pale face 
And parted lip watched his career and knew 
That tall dark plume. It seemed but yesternight 
That plume had passed him in the bloody fight. 
Where the wild crags hang threatening high 
Above the narrow pass and the blue mountains stretch 
Aloft their noble heads, were shepherds fetch 
Their flocks to pastures verdant from the gore 
The fierce barbarian shed midst battles' roar, 
He fought again, surrounded by the steel 
Of foes triumphant, with his naked heel 
Against the rock. As when the hunted boar 
Midst rushy jungles trusts to flight no more, 

95 



He stood defiant and the cowering Gaul 

Looked on their dead and feared themselves to fall 

But toppled boulders from the rocky height 

To crush the valor they had failed to smite. 

As where upon some mountain side 

Thunders the fearful, crashing slide 

Of earth and rock, so down the way 

Thundered that warhorse on that bloody day. 

As the swift chamois, beaten by the wings 

Of the strong vulture, panic-stricken flings 

Itself to death, so to the whirling flood 

Foes threw themselves and tinged with Gallic blood 

It swept on to the main. His bleeding side, 

Pierced to the vitals, poured a crimson tide 

And fainting mid the heaps of dead he fell 

While that dark plume the Romans loved so well 

Nodded above him. 

Hark, the rider speaks : 
"Fathers and Tribunes, where broad Tiger seeks 
Between our hills the sea, there I had birth. 
You know me well. All public pain or mirth 
You have experienced, in it I have shared. 
However my comrades suffered I have fared 
And through these years as in the years of old 
Rome never gained one friend by using gold. 
The things that to our city are most dear 
Are the stout Roman's heart, his sword and spear." 

96 



As when the gloomy forests of the North 
Lashed by the tempests, moan their answer forth 
Or like the sea amid the rocks and caves 
At midnight murmuring o'er the many graves 
Of those who trusting found a waiting bier 
Of coral reefs with shrouds of sea moss drear, 
Such was the murmuring of the mighty throng 
As low and constant and as deep and strong. 
Each eye was strained where rode the valiant knight 
Each warrior knew him, all had seen his might 
Before proud Veii, in the lingering strife 
His blade had dipped in many a hero's life. 

Above his helm, around that jetty crest 
A wreath of withered oak leaves hung at rest. 
His face was dark save where a line of white 
Marked on his cheek a trophy from some fight. 
With sword and spear, in armor and with shield 
He sat, the conqueror from the bloody field. 
His voice was mellow as he gently spoke 
Unto his steed that sniffed the rolling smoke 
And cringed and trembled at the rumblings low 
And champed and pawed and tossed the foam like 

snow. 

"Peace, Mars, no more we lead 
The rushing host of charging steed 
You'll bear me through red fields no more 
Or fleck your snowy sides with gore, 

97 



Long have we labored, ever have we tried 
In speed and arms to be the Roman's pride, 
We offer now our gift to yonder hell 
For our great love of Rome who loves us well.' 
Then to the sky all black with smoke above 
He turned his face and to almighty Jove 
Offered himself, his steed and his good sword 
Which half unsheathing as he spoke the word 
Startled the horse that leaping forward fled 
Toward where the mighty column dread 
Of rolling smoke and poisonous gas 
Through the rent stones found ample pass. 
Six fathoms 'twas from side to side 
And spouting from its walls so wide 
Burst a great spring and vapors white 
Blent with the smoke eclipsed the light 
Of the bright Sun, like that dark veil 
That hung o'er Isis cold and pale 
And her celestial frown or smile 
Hid from the children of the Nile. 
On fled the horse and shrilly, wildly neighed 
With flying reins his rider's voice obeyed. 
He stretched each sinew to the final task 
His greatest, grandest effort, best and last. 
On toward the fearful pit he madly flew. 
At every leap ten strides he nearer drew. 
His quivering nostrils dilate, tinged with red. 
His ears laid back upon his haughty head — 

98 



Like a strange bark upon a foreign shore, 
Unguided, lost, drawn onward mid the roar 
Of a dark whirlpool, o'er the very brink 
Topples a moment, then adown the sink 
With sails all tattered and with stern unhelmed 
Rushes into the vortex and o'erwhelmed 
Sinks in the flood. The fearless steed leaped out, 
*'A11 to the gods" rang a triumphant shout. 
Down, down they whirl but floating o'er the hell 
A withered wreath rose, poised and slowly fell. 
For a brief space were horror and dismay 
When flashed a bolt that brighter than the day 
Lit up the forum with its lurid light 
Stopped blood mid vein and shone on faces white. 
The lowering clouds above grew strangely bright. 
The pit was silvered with the heavenly light, 
Like gods the statues shone in that dread flash 
When o'er the spot the thunder's deafening crash 
Burst terrible. The forum rose and fell 
The sacrifice had won, Jove closed the hell. 



99 



The dreams of the Past but foreshadowed 

The deeds that we do in the Now, 

The dramas our Fancy has v^^oven 

Impelled us almost like a vow 

And no work-a-day duties should hold us 

So visions can never enfold us, 

Let the Poppies of Youth deck your brow. 



101 



i 




